Soup and Brothers
by RedCoatsRedder
Summary: While Feanor and Nerdanel are away, Maedhros gets sick. His brothers do their very best to take care of him.


It started out like any other day.

Well, not quite. Maglor ended up sleeping until noon because his parents were away, traveling somewhere quiet and isolated for their wedding anniversary. He wouldn't have slept until noon if he hadn't been up half the night working on a new song, but no one had told him to go to sleep and he'd lost track of time.

Which was another unusual thing. Maedhros, like always, had been left in charge while their parents were away, and took his duties as their oldest brother very seriously. That meant that he made rounds at night just like their father, reminding them all to go to sleep, or if they were already, doing something sweet and brotherly like adding another blanket or a kiss to the forehead.

It just didn't make sense that he wouldn't have done so this time. It wasn't how Maedhros was- it practically went against his very nature.

Maglor decided to get out of bed and go investigate.

Downstairs was even worse. His younger brothers had been awake for hours at this point. Celegorm had had enough time to go out and do something in the woods, because he was covered in mud and there were branches in his hair. Curufin was trying to help him get one of the larger ones out, but it was stuck firm. Caranthir was probably (hopefully) still asleep. The twins just looked hungry, and were raiding the kitchens, which meant no one had made breakfast.

There were only three people in their family of nine who could cook. His mother and father, and Maedhros. None of them were here, ergo, no breakfast, and with six hungry boys, that was a recipe for disaster.

Which meant that it was now up to Maglor to either do something about it or to go find their brother. They were entwined, really. Both options led to tracking Maedhros down sooner or later.

"Hey! What's going on down here?" He shouted, trying to mimic the voice Maedhros used when he wanted to get their attention. It worked; his brothers stopped what they were doing and looked at him, right as Caranthir came down the stairs.

"Nelyo's not here, obviously, and unless you want to explain to Ata and Nana why the house burned down while they were gone, we can't make breakfast." Celegorm explained as though this made perfect sense. It did not explain the mud and the branches, but Maglor and the rest of the family had learned not to ask.

"You do realize his room is right down the hall and he never locks his door before he goes to bed, right?"

Five pairs of eyes blinked back at him.

And so began the Great March Upstairs to find Maedhros and get breakfast.

Like always, the door was unlocked. Maglor opened it, not really expecting to find anyone inside. Maedhros was an early riser like their father.

At first, it seemed like the room was indeed empty. The bed had a mound of blankets atop it, but no brother. Although this too was odd-Maedhros was usually very tidy. But Caranthir made a "aha" sound and pounced on a particularly prominent blanket lump.

Sure enough, there was the top of a red head sticking out from underneath the corner of a blanket. Celegorm tugged at the end and revealed their older brother's face. He blinked at them and rolled over with a groan, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Good morning!" Amrod shouted, flopping Maedhros's hair around on the pillow. He held some of it up to his own head, giggling. "Look, I'm Nelyo."

Maedhros made another groaning sound and reached out one hand, probably trying to get Amrod to stop messing with his hair. It ended up on Amras's head, where it ruffled his hair a bit before sliding back down to rest on the mattress.

"Time to get up, Nelyo! We're hungry and we need you to make breakfast." Curufin said. "Or lunch, really."

That got their brother's attention. "What time is it?"

"Noon." Maglor answered. "You must've been really tired. Caranthir and I slept late too."

A funny look flashed across Maedhros's face, and he slowly sat up, rubbing at his eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was so late."

On the way downstairs, Maedhros stumbled. Maglor didn't think all that much of it. Their father was always saying that they needed to put different carpet on the stairs- it was thick, rather lumpy in several places, and had a habit of tripping people. Maedhros was just its latest victim.

…

Celegorm had a bad feeling about this.

Or maybe he was just worried. He usually trusted his feelings, for better or for worse. And this time, he was very certain that something was wrong with Maedhros.

He sat at the table in the kitchen, watching as his oldest brother gathered ingredients and pots and pans. He looked as though he was moving through water, slower and heavier than was typical for him.

An egg, placed just a touch too carelessly on the counter, rolled onto the floor and broke with a splat. Maedhros just stared at it, not seeming to comprehend what had happened. Celegorm knelt to help him pick up the pieces of shell and wipe up the gooey yolk and egg white.

With their noses just inches from each other's, he noticed that his brother was flushed, and his eyes looked glassy and blank.

"Nelyo, are you alright?"

"M'fine, Celegorm." Maedhros smiled at him and went to wash his hands. Celegorm (with a bit of reaching) placed a hand on his forehead.

"No you're not, you have a fever!"

Their other brothers looked up at that. The room was suddenly full of sound.

"You're sick?"

"Sit down!"

"Get out of the kitchen and go back to bed! We'll make you some soup."

This last statement came from Curufin, who looked around at all of them staring at him. "What? Celegorm can make soup. We went hunting together once and he made it for us. It wasn't that bad."

With that, Maglor led Maedhros out of the room, and Celegorm got out the soup pot. What Curufin had said wasn't completely false. He did know how to make soup. One type of soup in particular-the kind that involves throwing whatever you can find into the pot and usually tastes better when you're desperately hungry for just about anything.

But his brothers didn't have to know that. He gathered an assortment of the tastiest-looking food items in the kitchen. Chicken, an assortment of vegetables and spices, and some dried biscuits that he'd learned quite on accident were very good when crumbled up into soup.

It wasn't long before he had the stove lit and the pot ready for his culinary masterpiece. When he'd made the soup for him and Curufin, he'd just filled it with water and dumped everything in all at once. Ideally, repeating this would ensure the best results. Surely one couldn't mess up soup.

As it turned out, it was possible for one to mess up soup. Apparently the stove fire was hotter than the campfire had been, as Celegorm learned when he turned away to start skinning the rabbits he'd caught earlier that morning. He'd only gotten through two of them when Caranthir let out a yelp.

The pot was smoking, and rather badly. Caranthir was futilely batting at the smoke while attempting to put out the stove. Celegorm quickly hurried over to help, pulling the pot away from the heat and trying to decide if the soup was salvageable.

At that point, Maglor walked back into the room. "I hope you've got the soup ready, I think Nelyo is getting paler."

He stopped and sighed at the sight before him. Celegorm grinned. "Yep. We've got soup. Nice and hot."

Amrod passed him a bowl, and Amras handed him a ladle and a spoon. Despite the smoke, the soup still smelled rather good, if not a little charred. Celegorm felt a (probably unjust) sense of pride. He'd done it. After all, Curufin hadn't said that the soup he could make was amazing, just that it wasn't that bad. Which meant that it was almost good.

Anyways, it was good enough for Nelyo. Probably.

In the next room, Maglor had Maedhros settled on a low sofa and wrapped so thoroughly in blankets that only his head was visible. The rest of him was lost to the blanket cloud. He didn't look any better than he had in the kitchen, but when the rest of his brothers came in, he smiled weakly.

"We made soup!" Celegorm announced. He held the bowl out in front of him as proof.

They gathered around the sofa. The twins sat on Maedhros's legs, or what was most likely Maedhros's legs. It was hard to tell, with the blanket and all. Anyways, it probably wasn't the best idea considering his current condition. Maglor had retrieved his lyre and settled down next to their brother.

His music filled the room, running over them like water in a stream passes over the rocks. It was soothing, bringing a sense of peace to the brothers.

Maedhros reached for the soup, but his hands were trembling too badly to hold the spoon, much less the bowl. Celegorm helped him bring the first spoonful to his mouth. He raised his eyebrows, looking up at his younger brother.

"That's...not all that bad, Tyelko. It's pretty good, actually."

The sense of pride Celegorm felt in his cooking was now justified. He beamed at Maedhros, and held up the next spoonful for his brother. Maglor began another song on his lyre, Caranthir settled down beside him, and Curufin sat beside Celegorm. The twins were still sitting on their brother's legs, but Maedhros didn't seem to mind.

…

Just a few hours later, soup finished and empty bowl placed somewhere out of the way to be forgotten about, Maedhros was asleep. His brothers were too, all of them leaning against him or one another, more bowls scattered around them.

It was peaceful in the house, a rare thing.

Of course it wouldn't last. When Maedhros woke the next morning, he would be feeling much better, but he would also be surrounded by six bleary-eyed, runny-nosed brothers. Apparently, whatever he had had was contagious.


End file.
